


Just a touch is all it takes to get me lit

by littlecountrymouse



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, some fluff I guess, that is literally it guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecountrymouse/pseuds/littlecountrymouse
Summary: Adrian doesn’t plan on going to the bar first thing when he quits the QS, but when he thinks about it, where else would he want to be after that kiss they’d shared before he left?He doesn’t know where the night will take them, but the anticipation is nearly as good as the rush Deran’s always given him.





	Just a touch is all it takes to get me lit

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!  
> Here's a follow up to my previous work, 'If you light the fuse you that I'll react.' Now, I get that the subject matter in that one is well and truly out of bounds for a lot of people, and that's cool. This one has the briefest mention of the situations in that fic, and honestly, you'll likely barely notice them and can read this without reading the first installment.  
> This is actually the first porn I've ever written, the second I've ever posted, and was written while I was loopy on anti-histamines and bourbon. It's also unbeta-ed, so God knows what you'll find in here.  
> Thank you to allthehearteyes and Iresposts for having a read of this a couple of edits ago, I hope you all enjoy it as much as they did :)  
> Come hit me up at dixiethumbelina.tumblr.com any time, I'm always happy to talk about these two or take prompts!

***  
Adrian wasn’t planning on going to the bar when he first hit Oceanside. He was aiming more for getting drunk and passing out at Chad’s, then going to Deran the next day to see how he was and pass on the news that he’s pulling out of the QS. For good, this time. It’s not worth sending himself into debt just to lose, and without a single sponsor to show for it. 

But when he goes past the bar at midnight, jetlagged and frankly a bit despondent, the thought of spending time with Deran for a few hours sounds considerably better than listening to Chad talk about whatever girl he’s found this week. Really, being around Deran sounds like the best thing on earth.

There’s a distinct lack of a certain long-haired blonde menace when he walks in the door, but the place still has a ridiculous amount of people in it for this time of night on a Wednesday.

Adrian waits for the server to get over to him and is more than a little dumbfounded when she asks if he wants his usual.

He’s been here _twice._ And yes, okay, he’s gotten the same thing each time, but how the fuck did this girl even remember that? He doesn’t even remember _her._ “Yeah, sure. Is Deran in?” 

She shakes her head. “He is, but he’s doing paperwork and we’re not allowed to poke the bear. But he should be done by closing?” 

“Sure, I’ll wait.” It’s not the first time he’s waited on Deran, and a couple hours in the place Deran’s carved out for himself sounds good, even without Deran in it.

He also calls bullshit on Deran doing paperwork, but he’ll let it slide. Deran will tell him what he was up to if he wants to.

When he goes to pay for his beer, the girl waves his cash away. “No, dude. Boss said whatever you want is on the house, whenever you’re here.” 

Adrian blinks. “Are. Are you sure he meant me?” Seriously. He and Deran have history, and he’s hoping there’s a future there together, especially now that Adrian’s home and Deran’s a bit less of a Cody, but he didn’t think he mattered enough for Deran to be telling his bar staff to comp his rounds.

There’s gotta be a mistake. It must be some other guy - Deran has a type, always has, so there’s a good chance this girl means one of the guys Deran’s been fucking. Thinking about that leaves a pit in his stomach, but he can’t blame the man - Deran spent so long so far into the closet that he’d well and truly hit Narnia, so it’s fair that he’s playing catch up now. And Adrian’s been away for nearly three months. Shit happens, even if there was promises made before he’d left. 

She shrugs. “You Adrian?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then he meant you.” She walks off to the next customer then, leaving Adrian on his stool feeling decidedly weird about the whole thing. 

But - free beer. Free beer is worth a little bit of weirdness, he thinks. Especially given how his bank account looks. 

So Adrian settles in for the next couple hours, watching the crowd and having the odd conversation with some of the guys he knows, but he’s mostly just waiting. He isn’t really sure what for yet, but now that he’s here, there’s tension under his skin like waiting for a big wave, like the anticipation of a high that hasn’t hit yet.

Adrian isn’t sure what’ll happen tonight, whether it’ll lead to anything more than the two of them talking while they try to figure out where to go from here, but he’s looking forward to the rush of whatever happens. 

***

It’s nearly half past two when someone comes through the kitchen and starts to talk to the server, and it takes Adrian a second to place him, because that ... 

There is _no_ way that’s Deran.

Adrian closes his eyes and then opens them again, a long blink while he tries to keep his cool, but things stay the same. 

Holy _shit._

He’s never seen Deran with short hair, but Adrian has to admit, he’s very into it. He’s into the whole picture actually, the tidied clothes and the authority he’s got in this place, the way he smirks at Adrian and tips his head, finger up to tell him to wait …

Alright, so he and his dick agree about how they feel about Deran. Good to know. 

He still has to stare down at the bar for a moment and try to get his brain to reconnect to the rest of him. 

He thinks the server snorts at him, which is extremely uncool. Adrian wasn’t prepared for all of … _that,_ to come through the door. She could have warned him. 

“You poor bastard.” She grabs his last empty off the counter and wipes it down. “I’m Kai, by the way.”

“Hi.” It comes out as a squeak, and Adrian is so glad Deran has disappeared to parts unknown again for a minute so Adrian can get his bearings back without him to see it. 

She snorts again. “Yeah, the hair was a bit of a shock for all of us.”

Adrian nods. “I’m not surprised.”

He’s still going to give him shit for it, but _wow._

***

He stays where he is while Deran gets rid of the last of his patrons and pays his staff, until finally it’s just them in the bar, and Deran’s arm comes around the Adrian’s neck in a loose hug. 

“Hi.” 

Adrian gropes at his thigh, both his own hug and to stop himself being pulled backwards off the stool. “Hi yourself.”

Huh. There’s more bulk under his hand than there used to be. Apparently Deran’s been working out again. 

There’s also a hard dick being pressed into his back, so it’s good to see they’re both on the same page. 

Deran snags Adrian’s mostly-empty beer off the bar and takes a swig, and Adrian turns just to watch him swallow. 

“Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon, man.” Deran’s eyes are soft, more concerned than anything else. “You alright?” 

Adrian shrugs. He doesn’t want to get into this tonight, not when there are apparently so many other things they could be doing. “Just wanted to come back for a while.”

Deran seems intent on trying to glare a suspicious hole in him for a moment, but he gives in when Adrian doesn’t give him any more information. “Cool. Well, I gotta clean up a bit, but you wanna have a few after?”

Yeah. Adrian’s keen for that, so he nods and tugs his beer back. 

Fucking Cody stealing his drink. Although said Cody is also _paying_ for the drink, so that kind of changes it, he guesses. 

Deran seems to get what he’s thinking, because he grins but gives the bottle up easily, and lets Adrian out of the loose hold he’s in. 

Now that a certain someone has left him only the dregs in the bottom of his bottle, Adrian feels bad just sitting there while Deran keeps working. So he drags himself off the stool and joins in - he worked in a bar for a while when he was twenty-one, it’s not his first time on last call clean up. 

He’s already started swiping empties off tables when Deran shakes his head from behind the bar. “Dude. You don’t have to work here, it’s all good.” 

Adrian shrugs. “You just paid for three of my beers, the least I can do is work them off.” 

“Oh, you gonna work them off, huh?” There’s that playful lilt to Deran’s voice that Adrian fell in love with years ago, and if he hadn’t already thought there’d be a chance he’d end up in bed with him before the night’s out, there’s no chance of it not happening now. 

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” Adrian leers over the bar at Deran’s crotch, and it’s worth being idiotic to make Deran laugh. 

“Moron. Fuck yeah, you help me clean up and I’ll blow you, how’s that sound?”

Adrian laughs, but he’s nodding, and so very into the idea. He didn’t lie in the shop that day - Deran sucks dick like an absolute champ, and only a complete dumbass would turn down the opportunity, even though he thinks he’s supposed to be working off the beer not earning a blowjob. 

He also doesn’t turn down the cold beer Deran passes him, because again, mostly-free beer. 

They’re quiet for a while, but the bar is filled with tension so thick it’s nearly crackling, like there’s a storm about to hit. Eventually, Deran deems the place clean enough, even though they haven’t really achieved much more than throwing away some of the empties and food people have left behind, and settles himself against the shuffleboard table.

Adrian leans back against the bar for now, only a few feet away from Deran, but it’s enough. If he stands next to him, he’ll probably just end up in his pants without talking at all, and that seems a little rude. Also, stupid given everything that’s happened between them in the last eighteen months. 

“So what’s been going on while I’ve been gone?” 

Adrian is expecting to hear about the jobs they’ve been pulling, maybe, or how being a mostly-legitimate business owner is working out for Deran. Even for him to say Smurf’s been driving him nuts. Not so much for his face to crumple and him to heave out an exhausted sigh.

Shit. That can’t be good. 

“Someone shot Baz. He’s dead.”

Oh. Oh, Jesus. Adrian stares at the wall for a minute while he tries to get that through his head. 

He never really liked Baz - he was just Smurf with a dick, and he treated Deran like he was a particularly dumb kid, regardless of whether he was twelve or twenty at the time. But he was still Deran’s brother.

“I’m. I’m sorry, man. I know that doesn’t mean much, but …” Adrian trails off, a bit lost for words. He wonders why Deran didn’t tell him, but then again, just because Deran is growing up doesn’t mean he isn’t still a bit shit at communication, even on the important stuff.

Deran shrugs. “It does, from you.” He fiddles with his beer for a minute, and Adrian would like to go to him, try to get that look off his face, but he knows Deran, and Deran under normal circumstances doesn’t do touchy-feely comfort. “Cops just turned up and told Pope one morning. Died before they could operate on him.”

It’s matter of fact, but so quiet, and Deran looks so damned sad. Adrian sighs and stares at the gold hoop he can actually see now that there isn’t so much hair covering it. He remembers Deran getting that thing on his fifteenth birthday. Actually, he thinks Baz might have been the one to pay for it.

“Did they find out who shot him?”

Deran shakes his head.

“You okay?” It’s a stupid question, but with everything that’s happened to Deran recently, Adrian’s gotta ask. He doubts anybody else will. 

Deran stares off at the wall and swallows, and Adrian knows he hasn’t taken a sip of his beer in ages. “If somebody was coming for us, they would have come already.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Adrian sips at his now lukewarm beer and moves to stand next to him, hoping being closer will bring a little bit of comfort, to himself or Deran, he doesn’t know which.

“Um.” He can hear it, Deran wants to be irritated that Adrian’s asking, but … “I’m fine. Jesus. Can we talk about something else? Please?”

It’s that little plea that makes Adrian not push it, even though Deran really needs to talk about this stuff sometimes, or he’ll explode and that’s not good for anybody near him. But he won’t tonight. Later, he’ll convince him to tell him more about Baz and everything else that’s been going on, but not now. 

So he moves to a far safer topic. “I like your hair.” 

‘Like’ is an understatement, but he tries to keep that out of his voice. 

“Yeah?” And oh, how he loves that tone. Deran’s a sucker for legitimate praise, and Adrian is a sucker for giving it to him, just to hear him so happy. He grins and hums in response. 

“Having a midlife crisis?” Adrian thinks the day they stop teasing one another is the day they’re dead.

“No, I just got itchy.” Deran still seems off, but Adrian will work with it. 

“Is Craig giving you shit?” Dumb question. Craig has never _not_ given Deran shit.

“No, I haven’t seen Craig in a couple months.” And Adrian can place that tone now - it’s Deran stressed out to the end of his rope, but he stays off that part and focuses on the fact that Deran hasn’t seen Craig in so long. Those two are attached at the hip. 

Surely Craig hasn’t been dumb enough to get arrested again, but given that Baz is dead, anything could have happened. He doesn’t really want to ask, but … “Where is he?”

Deran frowns. “He’s in Mexico, I think.”

“You think?” What the fuck’s _happened_ while he’s been gone? Jesus. Adrian is kind of glad he isn’t finishing the QS now, it looks like he’s been missing out on all sorts of shit back here in Oceanside. 

Deran shrugs and swallows a mouthful of beer, and even given how weird things feel, Adrian still really, really wants that blowjob if it’s on the table. God damn it. He mentally tells his dick to settle the fuck down, because the mood is strange now and Adrian doesn’t want to step on any figurative landmines.

“Who knows with that kid.” There’s something final in Deran’s voice, and Adrian wants so badly to ask, because if anyone would know what Craig is up to at any given time, his money would have always been on Deran. “You want another drink?” 

Okay, so Deran isn’t exactly chasing him out of the bar, but Adrian isn’t sure he should stay and keep going with his original half-formed plan of getting Deran onto the nearest soft surface and seeing how that hair feels under his hands. 

Then again, if Deran doesn’t want it, he’ll tell him. “It’s late. I should go, I guess.” 

Deran nods. “Yeah, you should probably go. That’d be good.” He doesn’t stop Adrian coming closer and his intentions are pretty fucking obvious, so he’s thinking Deran is full of shit. He reaches out, gets his hand on the soft beard Deran is sporting, and starts reeling him in gently, only for Deran to get out, “You should probably go.”

Deran is a lying liar who lies, and Adrian isn’t going anywhere unless the guy physically kicks him out the door. And just like that, they’re where they should be, with Deran’s mouth on his for a soft kiss before Adrian tugs him back in again. 

Deran’s jaw fits into his hand like the cogs of a clock, and his mouth fits his perfectly, warm and inviting and _wanting,_ even if he tastes like stale beer.

Adrian’s loved it since the day they first kissed, back when they were teenagers and drunk and high on a beach down south, and he thinks he loves it more now. He’s thought about this more than once while he’s been away, he can admit it - that kiss he’d shared with Deran at the back door of this bar the morning he’d left had felt like a promise and it’s fucking incredible to have it delivered to him now.

It beats the daydreams by a long shot. Kind of like wanting water and getting wine. 

Nobody could blame him for moaning when he gets Deran under his hands and starts tugging off his overshirt, while Deran does the same to him. The warm skin on skin contact is something else, and Adrian’s brain happily disconnects and lets his dick make all the decisions from here on out tonight. 

He backs Deran into a wooden beam without thinking about it, hearing that satisfying thunk of him slamming into it while Adrian tries to figure out if he wants to keep his hands bracketing Deran’s neck, or move down to his pants. Although there’s something to be said for just grinding against one another, and Deran seems pretty keen on that, too.

He doesn’t get a chance to decide before Deran is pulling away and shoving him back, looking a little debauched and a lot cocky. “Wait, wait, waitwaitwait.”

He’d worry if it wasn’t for the fact that Deran’s eyes are twinkling. Asshole. Adrian grins and waits for him to get through whatever bullshit he wants to get out. It’s very rarely easy with Deran, no matter what they’re doing, but it’s always worth it. 

“I thought you said you had to go?” Deran’s probably aiming for arrogant, but he still looks like he’s all of half a second off pouncing on Adrian, so it doesn’t really work. Then he pulls his shirt off, and holy shit, hello abs. 

Adrian didn’t get a chance to appreciate those the last time he saw Deran naked, but yeah, they’re actually better than he remembers, if it’s possible. He wants to lick him all over.

“Because I don’t know about you, but I was just gonna get naked and hang out in the back,” And oh, yeah, goodbye pants, too. Adrian is fucking _loving_ where this is going. “But if you have to go?”

Adrian starts chuckling and moving in before he’s even finished, because holy shit, Deran is ridiculous. “Shut up.” 

He shoves him then - he’s got at least ten pounds on Deran and he’s a little stronger too, so it’s not overly difficult to push him backwards into the office, even when Deran is half-heartedly fighting him.

They hit the couch in a jumble of limbs. Adrian cops a knee to the belly and he nearly knocks Deran onto the floor, but it’s fun in a way they haven’t been in so long that it’s worth the bruises they’ll both have in the morning. 

Deran’s under him for a couple of brief, exceptionally hot moments, and Adrian would be pretty fucking happy to stay like they are if Deran didn’t freeze for a second, then flip them over so he’s pinning Adrian.

It’s not where Adrian wants to be - he wants to completely fucking destroy the man, pin him down and leave him shaking with pleasure, but Deran's more than a little fucked up at the moment so Adrian decides he’ll roll with whatever Deran wants tonight. 

He hasn’t stopped kissing him yet, overwhelming and really, _really_ fucking good at it as usual, so Adrian thinks they’re all good as long as he lets Deran run the show, even if he’s a little lightheaded. 

They pull apart long enough for Deran to tug Adrian’s shirt over his head, nail scraping over his nipple hard enough to make him arch up with a whine, then Deran nearly fucking devours him while he works on his pants.

It’s clumsy, and Adrian laughs into Deran’s mouth when he growls something uncomplimentary about Adrian’s zipper, but soon enough his pants are off and flying across the room, hitting the shelves. 

Adrian is gonna have a hell of a time finding all his stuff tomorrow, but it’s all good. He’s panting when he pulls back for air, but they’re still so close their noses are touching. “What do you want?”

He will literally give Deran anything he asks for as long as they both get off. 

Deran makes a desperate, hopeless sound, but he still isn’t kissing Adrian, and that sucks, so Adrian leans up and takes one for himself. 

Deran pulls away to drop his head to Adrian’s, wild-eyed in the red glow and grinning. “I think something was said about me blowing you, yeah?”

Adrian’s brain comes up for air, twitches in defeat and throws in the towel again, because, yeah, alright. He’s down for that. He can’t get the words out though, only a shaky nod, and it only gets worse when Deran strokes teasingly up his side, his calluses dragging and catching beautifully on his skin.

Good fucking _God,_ how had he nearly forgotten how good Deran was at this part? He groans when Deran hits on his nipple and drops his head, and from there on out it’s fucking torture, because Deran of course hasn’t forgotten any of Adrian’s sweet spots.

Adrian’s got very few complaints, because Deran is very talented, exceptionally patient in bed, and also totally fucking evil. He happily works Adrian into even more of a lather but won’t let Adrian touch him, pinning both his hands above him to the couch, and that’s all well and good, but damn it, Adrian really wants to get his hands on Deran yesterday.

Also, his brain is leaking out his ears, and that’s not fair because Deran looks pretty much unaffected when he pulls away and starts to work on the other nipple. Adrian’s chest feels like it’s on fire, Deran’s rough fingers on his left nipple and his hot tongue on his right blurring into an aching, hot throb that’s pounding in time to his heart, and all Adrian can do is shudder beneath him and groan.

“Ah, fuck, you asshole, let me touch you.” 

Deran of course doesn’t, and Adrian kind of hates him at the same time as he never wants him to stop.

That is, he hates him up until Deran lets go of his hands, slides down his chest and swallows Adrian whole.

“Oh, _fuck.”_ It comes out hoarse and way too loud, but Deran’s warm and wet and loose around his dick, tongue working its way up and down when Deran pulls back for air and to shove his underwear off.

Adrian finally, _finally_ gets his hands in that hair, and wow. It feels better than he’d expected, crazy soft without any of the grease and salt that Deran usually uses as product. He clenches gently, knowing better than to accidentally pull or shove Deran down onto his dick without permission, but Deran blinks up at him and groans happily, and Adrian can’t stop himself from tugging hard.

Deran’s still watching him, and his eyes roll back into his head with a throaty little whine while he sucks Adrian down again, the hand not propping him up sliding down to jerk himself off, and dear god. There’s not a hope in hell of Adrian lasting long if that’s going on, knowing Deran’s so into this that he can’t wait his turn.

Deran hollows his cheeks over the head of Adrian’s cock and his shoulders come off the couch with a shout. He forces his eyes open so he can watch, taking in how Deran bobs his head lower and lower with each pass until he’s almost at the base and he takes it so fucking _well_ , and sounds so fucking _good,_ sweet, choked off groans coming out with every upstroke. Adrian wants to fuck them out of him until Deran is silent and gasping for air, wet-eyed and gorgeous. 

He settles his right hand down lower on Deran’s neck, just feeling the muscles there flex as Deran takes him deeper, and testing to see if that’s something Deran is into tonight. 

Deran’s fingers clench into his thigh and he moans wetly, arching his head back into the touch at the same time as he works his way down again, and that’s enough of an answer for Adrian. He doesn’t have to warn him - he just pushes Deran down harder onto his dick and thrusts up until he comes hard enough to see stars. 

“Holy _fuck.”_ Adrian gasps out when he’s done.

Deran pulls off his dick when Adrian is almost too sensitive, and he’s breathing fast and hard enough that Adrian is a little worried that he did some damage there, but Deran is shoving at his hip soon enough. 

“Roll over.” He growls, hoarse and wet, and Adrian can’t think of anything Deran could ask of him he wouldn’t do right now.

Apparently what Deran wants from him is to slide off the couch and sink his teeth into the meat of Adrian’s ass, to scrape his nails down the soft skin of his inner thighs and kiss down his right leg to the back of his knee. 

“Bend it.” Deran commands, and Adrian’s essentially fucking concussed from coming his brains out. So yeah, sure. Whatever Deran wants. He bends his knee, letting Deran take the weight of it when it falls off the couch.

,

He’s expecting Deran’s fingers, if anything. Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve had no prep. He’s at most expecting cool lube and the warmth of Deran’s body back on his again. He certainly isn’t expecting Deran’s fucking _tongue,_ slick and rasping and hot all at once, and Adrian is soon whimpering into his arm to keep from howling.

They never did this much, only when Deran was drunk off his face and really into the idea of marking his territory on every inch of Adrian. But Adrian’s always loved it even though he can’t come from it unless Deran takes mercy on him and jerks him off. He loves how good Deran’s always been at it and how he gets so into it, and there it is, that beautiful moan that means Deran’s trying not to rub off on the nearest surface. Adrian is trying his best not to do the same thing, because Deran will probably stop and that’d kill Adrian at the moment. 

“Fuck yeah, Deran, babe, _please.”_

“Yeah?” Deran rasps, and Adrian just buries his face in his arm and sobs.

Christ, it’s amazing. He’s already gotten off, he’s pretty much dead and completely wrung dry, but Deran’s hands on his hip and his knee and his tongue deep in him is still sending him totally fucking insane, broad rough strokes mixing with wetter and wetter thrusts, until all Adrian wants is Deran’s tongue in him, his fingers, his cock, all of it at the same time, whatever Deran wants to do to him.

It feels like hours before Deran takes mercy on him - it feels like there should be daylight spilling through the window instead of the red haze of whatever sign is hanging out there. Deran’s fingers are cold from the lube as they press two at a time then three into Adrian’s ass, but holy Christ do they feel amazing.

He thinks Deran says something, but it sounds like he’s nearly as gone as Adrian feels, and he’s gotta speed this up before he melts.

“Deran, come on, please.” He’s aiming for demanding, but he’s pretty sure it comes out needy. Whatever, it works, because he can hear Deran fumbling with the condom soon enough.

Adrian would help, but he’d be more of a hindrance at the moment - he’s jetlagged, hard again and he’s already come hard enough to launch this whole night up into his top ten. Adrian is completely useless to Deran and frankly the rest of the world, no matter what knocks on the door. The zombie apocalypse can hit as long as Deran gets the fuck into him in the next ten seconds. 

Deran drapes over his back, heavy and warm and right, and he wraps his hand over the top of Adrian’s as the head of his dick pushes against Adrian’s ass, hot and big and then inside him.

_Fuck._ Adrian drops his head on top of their tangled hands with a groan. Everything’s flying past him, but his entire world narrows down to the feeling of Deran sinking into him, holding him open, Deran’s hand clenched in his. 

Deran’s barely breathing, what air he’s getting in sounding painful as he tries to stay still. Tries to give Adrian a chance to adjust, and it isn’t something that he did often before, but Adrian is grateful for it. He hasn’t slept with anyone for over six months and he needs the moment to get himself together or he’s going to fall apart at the seams.

But that’s not all, he thinks idly when Deran is shaking with the effort of not moving and panting unsteadily into his ear. This is so out of character for Deran that it might have more to do with his guilt over what went down the last time they were in bed together, when Deran nearly pushed beyond what Adrian's comfortable with, and he twists his head to kiss along Deran’s scruffy jaw, the only part of him he can reach.

Deran kisses him back, along his ear and down his neck and onto his shoulder, little open-mouthed things that Adrian can tell he’d like to turn into bites, and he’s so very into that.

“Fuck, _do it,_ Deran.” He pants out, not just meaning for Deran to sink his teeth into him, because Adrian’s fine, he’s used to the weight and stretch of Deran inside him, so he’d really fucking appreciate him speeding things up here. 

Deran grins into his skin and bites down gently at the same time as he thrusts. The bites spread over every part of him that Deran can reach, and he gets his head back in the game from wherever Adrian had lost him to. He’s kind of glad that he got the chance to relax into it as much as he did, because when Deran starts moving for real, it’s almost a religious experience. 

Deran is as amazing at this as he is on a board, both enthusiastic and crazy talented, his hands sliding down Adrian’s body to his hips and pulling up, getting himself into a rhythm that works for both of them. All Adrian can do is drop his head until it’s nearly pressed against the armrest of the couch and hold on, and he clings to the fabric and closes his eyes when the fireworks hit him every time Deran works his way across his prostate.

“Adrian.” Deran sobs, nearly pleads it, and Adrian doesn’t know what he wants, but he’ll give him the world. He shifts up at the same time as Deran hunches over him, one hand wrapping around his waist and Adrian holds onto that, lets Deran hold onto him tight enough to bruise while he snaps his hips against him over and over, perfect and measured and oh - oh -

Right there. Jesus, if Deran moves from that spot, Adrian might just kill him. He’s so close, so ready to go, but Deran’s sobbing breaths punch through the night. 

“Adrian.” He begs again, and Adrian thinks he might be asking for permission, and yes, hell yes. 

“Yeah, Deran, go for it.” It punches out of him, and Deran’s still pressing into that spot and Adrian can’t see for the flashes in his eyes when Deran stays there, crying out and curving his back so Deran can keep doing what he’s doing and get his hand onto Adrian’s dick.

He’s barely fucking touched him when Adrian comes again, and all the air that’s left in his lungs is forced out. Deran’s mouth is wet against him when he presses a kiss over Adrian’s spine, and he fucks into Adrian hard enough that he forces him back down onto the couch with a groan.

“Adrian,” he’s panting softly, nearly crying it, “Adrian, Adrian, fuckin’, _Adrian,”_ and he can feel it in every place they touch when Deran comes with a shout.

Adrian still hasn’t gotten his breath back when Deran pulls out with a wince, and he shudders through the discomfort of it and the sudden, quick loss as Deran pulls out and gets the condom off. 

He expects Deran to get up, throw it away, get something to clean them both up with. Instead he sprawls heavily on top of Adrian again with a groan, hot and sweating and beautiful, and alright. Adrian will deal with the mess after. He’d be a fool to pass up Deran wanting to cuddle for a minute.


End file.
